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Not long after Bex fell asleep, I laid down next to him, not wanting to leave at that moment. However, I have a class coming up, so I get out of bed and lean down to give him a kiss on the forehead. He doesn’t move. When I walk out into the hallway, I find my mother sitting on the sofa, her eyes dull and her body swaying as a result of her intoxication. She can’t even keep her head still. It’s one in the afternoon.
“Pathetic.” I exit the trailer with a sneer on my face. As I close the door, I notice Karl sitting on a chair outside his trailer, smoking a cigarette and smirking at me.
“Kid!” he shouts. “Tell your brother I need him over here pronto.” My resolve shatters at the same moment that he snaps his fingers. I storm over there and lean my hands down on the chair arms, caging Karl into the chair.
“Listen the fuck here, you fat piece of shit. My brother is done with you. He won’t come here anymore, and I’ll make certain of that. Stay the fuck away from my brother.” As I’m about to straighten up, a sharp, excruciating pain shoots through my head, blurring my vision and causing me to land heavily on the ground. My sweater is grabbed before Karl is in my face.
“I own your brother. You be good to remember that, boy. The next time you lay hands on me, I won’t beat you black and blue. I’ll beat your brother black and blue.” He releases his grip, causing me to stumble backward and my head to collide with the ground, intensifying my dizziness.
I raise myself on one elbow.
Fuck. My head.
“Shit, Brayden.” Two arms embrace me and lift me off the ground. I grimace and hold my head, then shift my focus to Daxton on the left, who meets my stare. With his eyebrows furrowed, he forces a tight-lipped smile.
“I’m sorry.” He sighs. Taking a quick glance at his trailer door, he redirects his attention toward me.
“Daxton, just make me one promise. Keep the drugs away from Bex. Please,” I beg him.
“Daxton, get your fucking ass in here now and stop talking to that cunt!” Karl shouts from inside the trailer. Daxton winces and turns to walk toward the door.
Before he enters, he pauses and gazes at me. “I promise I won’t, Bray.” And I don’t know why, but I believe him. Daxton has never really done anything; he was born into an unfortunate family. A bit like us.
Because of his father, he doesn’t have a place where he fits in. No one at school likes him. He’s a loner and his dad is notorious. How can I be friendly with him when his dad is part of the reason Bex is the way he is?
Chapter twenty-four
Bohdi
As I wait for Brayden outside Pythons, I can’t help but study at the photo I captured from his Instagram story. I couldn’t resist, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I needed this photo and I hate how many times I’ve wrapped my hand around my dick since while I stare at the photo, wishing I could dress him in my cum.
He’s my nineteen-year-old student. What the fuck is wrong with me?
It might just be my imagination, but I had a dream last night that left me drenched in sweat and unable to fall back asleep. Jace’s face was all I could see, a face I hadn’t seen in my dreams for a while, expressing his disappointment in me.He’s your student, Boh. You’re old enough to be his dad.
I found myself in the shower at 4 a.m., pondering whether I was losing my mind or if this could be accepted as normal?
Of course it fucking can’t.
Am I gay? No?
Am I bi? I guess?
Do I find other men attractive? No.
But do I find Brayden attractive? Hell yes.
Do I still have an attraction to women? I don’t fucking know.
I made a decision this morning, but now I’m unsure if it’s the right one. Before I contemplate it further, Brayden enters the vehicle through the passenger door. His aftershave clings to me, making me yearn to nuzzle my nose in his neck and inhale in his entire essence. Sporting gray sweatpants, a white sweatshirt, and a baseball cap pulled low, he always catches my attention. I know what his body looks like under that white t-shirt as I gaze at him. I can’t help but feel a flood of heat wash through me.
“Hey sir,” he says, pulling his belt on and keeping his face turning toward the window and not at me.
That’s weird.
“Brayden.” I frown and start to pull away, sensing something is off. The tension feels wrong, like a taut string about to snap. I shift the gear stick with a deliberate motion and engage the parking brake, the click echoing in the silence. My eyes dart around, searching for any sign of what might be causing this unease.
“Are you ready for today?” It’s possible that he’s slightly anxious about the meeting.
